


Married Life

by elenei



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7573822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenei/pseuds/elenei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya and Gendry pretend to be married and shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another fic that was originally posted on tumblr.

Gendry had followed Arya Stark into far more dangerous situations than this. They had escaped Harrenhal while the threat of a face worse than death chased them. They’d traveled through the war torn Riverlands for what seemed like years looking for a safe place. He’d finally followed her all the way back north when any sane man, woman, and child were fleeing south. They had faced all sorts of monsters together.

But none of that had made Gendry as nervous as her current scheme. 

It wasn’t unusual for Arya to visit the forge when she had free time. But Gendry knew right away something was different. Arya didn’t barge in and jump up on the bench with food for both of them. Nor did she rant about something her sister had done or some foolish lord. Instead she slid in quietly and observed him like she was looking for a weakness.

Gendry knew he was being hunted.

When Arya had finally told him she wanted to pretend to be married he should’ve laughed in her face. But he couldn’t. His mouth had gone dry and his heart was racing. As were his thoughts. He had never dared to dream that him and Arya would marry. Why would he? They were friends. But he had harbored worse thoughts.

She was six and ten now and more beautiful than ever.

And Gendry’s thoughts were often filled with innocent kisses on the lips and not so innocent kisses under her skirts. He dreamed about making love on his cot and fucking in the forge.

A blush burned his face.

He only half heard her as she told him all about the offer Sansa had received during her trip to Sunspear. “She thinks Dornish culture will be agree with me,” Arya repeated in a high mocking tone and then scoffed. “She still doesn’t know me at all. Like we don’t have horses up north or something Maybe she should go live in Dorne so she can stuff her face with lemon cakes and leave me alone.”

Gendry could barely manage to point out every potential flaw in her plan:

What if someone found out the truth?

What if they were banished?

What if the King ordered him to be executed?

How were they to convince people?

Arya had shrugged off all his concerns. She was as confident as ever in her plan.

Gendry still wouldn’t give in. He couldn’t. He said so while he banged on a sword with his hammer. He wanted to drown out her words and forget she’d ever said them. All he could think of was what real married folks did. It was then that Arya played her trump card and Gendry suspected she had known she would need to all along. She spoke softly despite the ringing of metal throughout his forge.

“They’ll send me away. To Dorne,” Arya had said. Her voice was earnest now and he could hear a note of worry that she was trying to conceal. “I’m not afraid,” she added as if she could sense his thoughts. “It’s just…I don’t want to leave, not after everything. But if Bran asks…how can I deny him? I’d have to do my duty.” Arya shook her head. “I don’t mean to give him the chance. I just need to do this, to stall.”

Dorne. It was as far as Arya could be from him without crossing the Narrow Sea. He couldn’t imagine Arya that far South. It wasn’t where she belonged. She would seldom see Winterfell again if at all; maybe a trip once every few years. And her family could visit her on occasion too like Lady Sansa did.

But Gendry would be lucky to see her from a distance. She would no longer visit him in the forge or sit next to him at dinner or walk through the wolfswood with him as her wolf bound through the trees.

He couldn’t lose her to some Dornish Prince.

So he agreed.

Arya had wasted no time. She dragged him before all her siblings to tell them the news. The happy news she had said. Arya put on quite the performance; ambushing her brothers and sister as they were eating finishing their supper. Gendry had never felt so stupid and awkward as he did standing in front of the Starks of Winterfell like that. But somehow Arya’s hand in his had both made him weak and given him strength.

They took it better than Gendry expected.

Lady Sansa had only closed her eyes in what appeared to be exasperation. Gendry noticed how she didn’t exactly seem surprised. Rickon had smiled brightly and asked if Gendry was their brother now. But King Bran…his expression had been unreadable as Arya explained how the two of them had run off and married a few weeks ago. Her story was that they had been keeping it a secret but she couldn’t lie anymore. Gendry hadn’t been the only one to blush as Arya insisted their marriage had already been consummated as well.

When Sansa asked if they could reverse it the young king had almost smiled and simply said: “What’s done is done.”

They had been dismissed without the slightest implication of exile or execution. And for that Gendry considered himself lucky.

Arya demanded he go back to his chambers and collects all his belongings and bring them to her room. Of course, he thought. We will have to share a bed. He had tried to argue that right in the hallway but Arya wouldn’t allow it. She repeated her demands before turning on her heels and walking away without a backwards glance. Gendry was left staring at her with a mixture of anger and admiration. Is this what marriage is like? Gendry had wondered.

-

He walked awkwardly through the courtyard with a bag thrown over his shoulder while dozens of eyes bore holes into him. It seemed as if everyone already knew. There were no secrets in a castle. Gendry had learned that early on. Girls were giggling behind their hands and men smirking knowingly. Some faces looked angry. He didn’t imagine many would approve of a Princess of Winterfell marrying the bastard blacksmith. Too bloody lowborn, he thought angrily. Gendry couldn’t help but wonder how many thought he had been the one to take advantage of Arya and hated them for it. He hurried into the castle. It was all he could do to keep his head held high.

It was always odd being inside Winterfell. Gendry didn’t know if he would ever get used to it. He had grown up in the shadow of the Red Keep and slaved away in the burnt remains of Harrenhal. He had even visited Riverrun, the birthplace of Arya’s lady mother. But this castle was different. It was Arya’s home.

He nearly ran to her room into the Great Keep in an attempt to avoid any Starks. He didn’t think he was ready to face them alone. Lady Sansa was always polite but he didn’t think she cared much for him. This wouldn’t improve her opinion. Rickon would be the easiest to lie to, he was just a boy. The young king was the one who had Gendry’s stomach in knots. King Bran was talked about like a god and like gods he seemed to know everything.

Gendry shook those off as he walked down the corridor where Arya’s chamber was. She was the only one he had to deal with just now.

Gendry knocked lightly on the door.

It opened quickly. “What are you doing?” Arya hissed poking her head out. 

“You told me to get my things-“

Arya grabbed him by his leather vest and yanked him into her - their room. “You don’t need to knock to enter your wife’s bedchamber,” She informed him sternly. Gendry just scowled at her and in return Arya studied him intensely. “This is going to be harder than I thought.”

“Not all of us spent time among mummers.” Gendry didn’t know all the secrets of Arya’s time in Braavos but he knew some. Like how she had learned the language by living among the fisher folk and how to act with a troupe of mummers. He knew about the Faceless Men too but only just. Arya hadn’t gone into great detail and Gendry hadn’t asked. He wasn’t eager to relive his days with the Brotherhood either. Some things were better left unsaid.

“No but it’s not that hard to pretend,” Arya insisted. “I’ll teach you.”

Gendry swallowed hard.

He was the only one she trusted to help her with this. But he was acting like such an idiot! Arya had thought this would be easier. She and Gendry had known each other for years, he was her truest friend. She figured she knew everything there was to know about him and he knew as much as anyone about her. That was half the battle. The rest was just acting like husband and wife while they were around others. A task Gendry was resisting more than she had expected.

Arya took a couple steps forward until her chest was almost brushing his. She looked up at him and he was staring down at her like she was a wolf and him a frighten deer. She smiled at that thought. They would start simple, Arya decided.

“Touch me, Gendry.”

He took a giant step backwards and probably would have fallen over if he hadn’t bumped into the door.

“WHAT?”

“What do you mean what?”

“I can’t-“

Arya shoved him with both hands.

“Why are you acting so stupid? We have to make sure no one questions the legitimacy of our marriage. That requires touching, as married folks do.” Arya remembered her parents would often touch. In private; Lord Eddard would run his fingers through Lady Catelyn’s hair or she would touch his face. They would kiss and hold each other and that’s how, even as a little girl, Arya knew how much they loved one another. 

She resumed her position in front of him, only now he was trapped against the door. There was nowhere for him to run. “Like this.” She reached up and cupped his cheek. It was rough because he hadn’t shaved but warm under her palm. Gendry looked pained. He’s so stupid, she thought again. She let her thumb move gently across his cheek and as she did Gendry’s eyes closed. He seemed to almost relax at that.

He really is quite handsome, Arya thought while she finally had him at ease. All the girls and women said so. She had never paid them much attention. But she could see it now. He had a nice strong jaw and a straight nose with dark hair that made his eyes shine bright. His face was only half of what the girls talked about, though. Arya glanced at the body that was in front of her. His chest was broad and Arya knew his arms were as powerful as they looked. He was tall and strong and everything a woman could dream of.

Arya suddenly felt warmer.

She dropped her hand abruptly. Gendry’s eyes flickered open and gazed down at her. He still looked calmer than he had since she’d proposed. Neither one of them seemed to know what to say.

“See. That wasn’t so bad,” Arya said eventually. She smiled. “We could hold hands too. That’s an easy one. Or hugging-”

“I think that’s enough practice for one night,” Gendry said his voice sounded strangled.

Arya chewed her lip. Her hand was still tingling slightly. She wasn’t sure how the rest of her would react if they started touching more. It would have to be enough.

“If you say so…husband.”

This time he didn’t blush or look nervous. Instead he glared at her like Arya had caused him some great offense. But she wouldn’t cower from that.

“You could try calling me your wife,” She suggested and the dark look intensified.

“No.”

“Fine. Just don’t be calling me m’lady. Though, I suppose people might think it’s some kind of pet name.” That did make him blush. Arya let him think it over while she washed up for bed. She splashed water on her face and quickly combed her hair. Then she yanked her tunic off and shimmied out of her trousers. She was under the furs in her smallclothes while Gendry still stood by the door.

“We’ve shared a bed before,” she reminded him wearily.

“It’s different. We haven’t since…” Arya waited. And he gestured with his hand towards her. Whatever he was trying to say was causing him great pain. “Since you became a woman,” he grumbled looking at his boots.

“Oh so since I grew tits?” Arya laughed. “What does that matter?”

Gendry stared at her for awhile after that. Arya wasn’t sure what he planned on doing whether it was running out the door or sleeping on the floor. He did neither. He sat on the edge of her – their bed, and removed his boots. Soon they were both under the furs in their smallclothes. They’d done this before and yet it felt entirely new. Arya wouldn’t admit it to him but Gendry was right this was different.

Gendry was on his back and seemed quite interested in the ceiling of her room. Arya was on her side and the only thing she could see was him. She could feel the warmth of his body and smell the forge on him. There was enough room between them for another person but he was close enough to touch. It wouldn’t take much adjusting for her to be pressed against him. A part of Arya wanted to. Startled, she rolled over so she was facing the window.

This was going to be more difficult than she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

When Arya woke she found herself in Gendry’s arms. She was still lying on her side, the way she had fallen asleep but Gendry had found her sometime during the night. His chest was pressed up against her back and one of his arms was across her waist. He was so close she could feel his breath on her neck. Gendry was so much bigger that he seemed to surround her.

Arya thought she should be annoyed that he was hogging so much space and crowding her but all she felt was contentment. She was used to waking up alone. She hadn’t minded all those other mornings but she could see how this was nice too.

Gendry shifted back slightly giving Arya enough room to roll over onto her back. He was awake. She looked at and him and offered a little smile; in honor of their first night together as man and wife. It had been a success. Arya had escaped her would be marriage and Gendry hadn’t gone completely mad.

“Good morning,” Arya said lightly. Gendry looked at her through his sleepy blue eyes. His expression seemed to be one of amazement, like he was seeing her for the first time. Arya felt her face grow warmer.

“Mornin’.” His voice seemed deeper.

“How’d you sleep?” Arya asked to take her mind off her blushing face. Now who’s acting stupid? she asked herself. This is just Gendry. There was no reason to act like some silly little girl. They hadn’t actually slept together.

“Good, great. It was nice,” he answered. Gendry took a steadying breath. “You have a comfortable bed,” he added quickly and then winced. He was blushing too. We’re both stupid, Arya observed with a resigned sigh.

Arya stretched and she could feel him watching as her arms were raised over head.

“Your hair looks like a birds nest,” Gendry teased. He pushed some tangled strands out of her eyes. Arya swatted his hand away but he pinned it next to her head. She went to slap him with the other but he caught that one too. So she smacked her forehead into his. Not as hard as she could have but enough to shock him into releasing her with a yelp. Arya seized the opportunity to climb on top of Gendry so she could pin his hands. 

“What are going to do now?” Arya said leaning over him. Gendry was grinning up at her.

“You’ve got me,” he conceded. They stayed like for a moment. It was long enough for Arya to realize how their bodies were now situated. Only a few minutes ago Gendry had been holding her. Her body had been curled against his but that had been all innocence in comparison. She was straddling him in her small clothes.

Before either of them could make another move there was a knock at the door. Arya realized in that moment exactly how much Gendry had been humoring her because he easily escaped her grip, so that Arya fell to the side, and leapt off the bed. He had the guiltiest expression on his face as if they had just finished fucking or something. Arya rolled her eyes.

“Come in,” She called calmly from the bed. A young maid entered with light blonde hair and big brown eyes. She was one of Sansa’s. A girl of ten and three called Meg. She curtsied with a shy smile.

“Good morning m’lady. Ser,” She addressed Gendry with a hint of uncertainty. There was going to be a great deal of that Arya suspected. “Lady Sansa has asked me to tell you that she would be delighted if you would break fast with her this morning.”

Arya repressed a groan. That would be round two with her family. She felt like the first had just ended. Still there was no getting around it. Arya couldn’t very well avoid them all indefinitely. 

“Yes, I would love that,” Arya lied. “I’ll be there shortly.” 

Meg curtsied again and left them. She had stolen all the ease that had been between Arya and Gendry. He was shuffling by the fire into his clothes with his back to her. Arya wanted to say something to bring back the mood they’d had before. She wanted to see him smiling again.

Instead she rose and got dressed too.

Gendry hovered by the door anxiously. He can’t wait to leave, Arya thought bitterly.

“We just go about our business,” Arya explained to his unasked question. She could tell he was nervous about having to tell the lie without her holding his hand. “There’s nothing you have to do if I’m not around. Unless people ask you questions. Then just talk about what a great wife I am. Can you manage that?”

Gendry nodded stiffly but he didn’t look very convinced. But Arya had no choice but to let him go. She had to trust him. There was no way she could stay by his side through this whole thing.

Besides she had her own lies to worry about. 

When Arya entered Sansa’s chamber she was sitting by the window with a table full of food in front of her. Bran was there too. Arya didn’t like that. She enjoyed her brothers company, more than Sansa’s even, but she wasn’t as confidant about lying to him. She could lie to Sansa easily enough but Bran was different. He had come back from beyond the wall different. They had all changed. Bran was quieter, wiser, and far too knowledgeable. If Arya could look into a man’s eyes and see if he was lying then Bran could look there and see their soul. Arya steadied herself. She would not be intimidated by her little brother. Even if he was her king and a greenseer. 

“Good morning,” He greeted her. Arya offered the same and smiled as she seated herself between them and helped herself to an oat cake.

“Where is Rickon?” She asked immediately diverting attention away from herself and her marriage.

Sansa sighed. “In the yard, of course”

Arya couldn’t help but smile again, genuinely this time. Rickon had taken to all martial pursuits. All he wanted to do was fight and ride and train outside. He was determined to be a warrior. When Arya had taken up the bow and arrow so had he. They had learned together and it had been a way for them to get to know each other after all the years apart. She was even teaching what she knew of water dancing. There weren’t as many cats for him to chase in Winterfell but Arya found crows worked almost as well. Sansa wasn’t nearly as charmed by his interests.

“I do hope you’ll make sure he attends his other lessons when I’m gone,” She said taking a sip of tea. Arya scowled at her. She nearly sneered that Rickon’s lessons had been going just fine, had been since before Sansa returned, and would long after she left again.

“That baker you brought back from the Riverlands is a master at his craft,” Bran interrupted before she could respond. He had a piece of bread in front of him covered in butter and jam. It didn’t appear to be his first.

“His lemon cakes are divine,” Sansa agreed. “I wish I could take him with me.”

“I’ll fight you for him.” It was only half a joke. They ate quietly. Arya wasn’t going to complain about that. Nobody was asking her any questions and she wasn’t forced to lie to her siblings. But Sansa was quite fidgety. That was strange. This had been her idea after all. Arya risked it.

“So may I ask what caused you do bring us all here this morning?”

“Do I need a reason to spend time with my sister? And my brother?” Sansa asked.

Yes. “No.”

“I just thought it would be nice. I will be leaving soon and we have so much to talk about,” she said softly.

Arya chewed her lip. Sansa’s departure was on the long list of things Arya didn’t know how to feel about. She had missed her sister when she was gone but they had been bumping heads regularly. It was better than when they had been children though.

“I’m with child,” Sansa confessed abruptly. Arya brought a surprised look to her face; she dropped her jaw just slightly and raised her eyebrows. Bran’s face mirrored hers. Sansa blushed. Arya had realized this as soon as Sansa returned to Winterfell. She would touch her belly tenderly when she thought no one was looking. But Arya had decided it would be best to let Sansa tell everyone in her own time. Apparently Bran had the same thought.

“I’m so happy for you.” Arya leaned forward to kiss her sister on the cheek. It seemed the thing to do. Sansa was happy with the response. Bran reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

“You’ll be a wonderful mother,” he told her.

Sansa thanked them both with a radiant smile. It made Arya happy to see her sister like that.

“Now that you’re married, as well, will children be far behind?” Arya had expected it so she was very careful to not show the confusion she felt.

“Perhaps,” she allowed. Arya had considered this issue and had decided it would be more appropriate if she acted like this was a possibility but not a truth. They were laying together but apprehension at expanding their family was only natural. “I think Gendry would like that.” Arya wasn’t sure how Gendry felt about children. She had never gotten around to asking him. But Arya saw a brief image in her mind of a baby with black hair and grey eyes. 

“He seems like a good man,” Sansa said.

“He is,” Arya said from the heart.

“I knew the first time I saw the two of you together that he was in love with you,” Sansa said as if it were a matter of fact.

“You liar!” The words reflexively burst out of Arya’s mouth before she could stop herself.

“Arya!”

They stared each other down like they were girls again. Arya had half a mind to throw a piece of fruit at her. Bran was chuckling at the two of them.

“How could you know such a thing?” Arya asked. 

“I can just tell,” Sansa replied primly.

“See,” Arya said to Bran with an indignant huff. “She’s just making things up.” Sansa looked utterly offended. “As usual,” Arya added for good measure.

“Oh I don’t know about that,” he replied. “Sansa was right after all, wasn’t she?”

Bran looked at her then, with his head slightly tilted to the side. Arya was struck, not for the first time, by how old he looked. He had no lines on his face or grey hair, he was still a boy of ten and four, but there was more wisdom in his eyes than any Arya had ever seen.

She lifted her chin and met his gaze straight on.

“Yes, I suppose she was.”

-

Gendry rushed through the castle and ignored every person he passed. He knew it wasn’t the proper conduct for the husband of the Lady of the castle but he couldn’t care less. If Arya wanted a husband who would kiss everyone’s arse and make small talk she had chosen the wrong bastard.

He ducked into the kitchen, hoping to grab a quick meal before seeking refuge in his forge. Hot Pie pounced on him instantly.

“Is it true?” he asked. When Gendry didn’t answer he began to almost shout. “Are you and Arya married?” Gendry shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth to avoid talking. The lying didn’t come as naturally to him as it did others. He had no choice but to nod his confirmation.

Hot Pie’s eyes widen.

“You and Arya,” he said breathlessly shaking his head back and forth. He returned to his dough with a shaky laugh. “You’re a lucky man. Who would’ve thought she’d grow up so pretty?” Gendry would have. “Of course her sister…she’s like something out a dream,” he trailed off.

Gendry snorted as he slathered butter on a warm piece of bread.

“So you and Arya have – ya know,” Hot Pie made a crude gesture with his hands. Gendry cuffed him upside the head.

“Hey that’s my wife you’re talking about.”

It came to him so naturally that for a brief moment Gendry forgot that it wasn’t true.

Hot Pie held his hands on in surrender.

“Sorry.”

Gendry shoved the bread in his mouth, eager to get out and away from Hot Pie.

“I knew you two would end up together.” 

“What?” He asked with around mouthful of food.

“Well it was obvious,” Hot Pie said as he punched down the dough and set it aside to sprinkle flour on the board. “You’re always staring at her with a stupid look on your face. And Arya isn’t much better.”

Gendry just stared at him. He must have looked angry because Hot Pie shrunk a little.

Eventually he just shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it all morning, ever since I heard that the two of you were wed. Looking back; it was obvious. Arya’d actually listen to you. That had to count for something. Because she sure as hell doesn’t listen to anyone else.”

Gendry chewed on his bread thoughtfully.

The day passed much like any other. When Gendry was in his forge he could almost forget about the lie that had taken over his life. He could focus on the steel and fire and beat his troubles away. But every time he left it was like stepping back into a mummer’s play. Arya would squeeze his hand over dinner and it would feel like her hand was wrapped firmly around his heart. She would call him husband and tell everyone how happy she was. And each word felt like an arrow. Once she had even snuck up behind him and wrapped her arms around her waist. That had knocked all the air out of his lungs.

The nights were better. They had to share a room for appearances sake but nobody but them knew what happened behind that door. They would talk like they used to and laugh and sleep. And when he woke up she was always right there. Gendry could get used to that. That’s when they got to be just Arya and Gendry again. Instead of husband and wife. Gendry knew he wouldn’t have minded that if it was real but Arya’s act cut him time and time again. The worst part was she didn’t even know it.

But the days passed. It had been almost a moon’s turn when their greatest challenge presented itself. There was to be a grand feast in honor of Lady Sansa’s departure on the morrow. She was returning to her husband while her siblings, along with Winterfell, would have to bid her farewell. The King had invited many Lords and Ladies of the North to the festivity. Arya had been busy all week with the preparations. She had informed him when they were alone that they would have to be a little more careful with all the extra guests around but that it should be easier once everyone was gone. Gendry wasn’t so sure. There was no end in sight to this game but every day he felt his resolve grow weaker and weaker.

-

It wasn’t the first feast Arya had thrown but it might have been the best. The Great Hall was full of people laughing and dancing and drinking. That was enough to please Arya. Bran sat above it all with a look of approval. Rickon was having the most fun. Arya had already taken ale from him twice. The guest of honor was as pleasant as ever but Arya could see a part of her was sad too. It was bittersweet for Sansa. Hot Pie had created a splendid lemoncake for her. Arya had seen him blushing furiously as Sansa complimented him on it.

Everyone Arya spoke to offered their well wishes on her marriage. She knew some had objections to her marrying the blacksmith, when they sons who needed wives, but none mentioned it. Many of the lords remembered Gendry’s bravery and strength during the Battle where he had earned a great deal of respect. When they told her as much Arya beamed with real pride.

Everyone was in high spirits. 

Except for Gendry. He was seated on her left and seemed entirely miserable. She knew he hated these things to begin with but the added pressure of their arrangement was making him even more grumpy than usual. Arya had been able to pay him much attention either. She was stuck playing the Lady. She was having trouble balancing all her roles nowadays.

The wife hadn’t been as difficult as she feared. She already spent plenty of time with Gendry. All she had to do was touch him more, call him husaband, and share her bed. Arya found herself liking it more and more. It was nice to hold hands Arya had learned and Gendry was a warm and comforting presence in her bed. He seemed to like some of it too but at other times he was tense with what Arya could only assume was annoyance. 

It was late when she finally had a moment to spare. By then many were falling asleep at their tables and couples had left to find privacy. Sansa herself had retired for the evening, the baby was taking a lot out of her, and she had an early journey to make. Bran looked about ready to leave too.

Arya caught Gendry by a keg or ale. He poured himself a large cup and took a deep swallow. She touched his arm and he flinched in surprise. At least that’s what Arya told herself.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

He grunted.

“It’s almost over.”

“Is it?”

Arya bit her lip.

She took the cup from and dropped it. She touched his face again like she had the first night but he moved his face. The look on his face was so tender it tugged at Arya’s heart.

“Kiss me.”

She didn’t know why she said it.

He brought both of his hands to hold her face and she stared up, waiting. He pressed his mouth against hers. At first he was tentative and gentle but as Arya returned the pressure he grew more bold. Soon her arms were wrapped around his neck and his tongue was against hers. Gendry pulled away first. He stared down at her, looking resolved.

He grabbed Arya’s hand and pulled her into a dark corner. He stood in front of her holding both of her hands. She opened her mouth to ask what was wrong with him but Gendry spoke first.

“I love you.”

Arya exhaled sharply. She looked anywhere but at him. She didn’t want to look in his eyes and see the truth there.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” Arya blurted. “We’re alone.”

Gendry backed away from her and Arya had to close her hands into tight fists to keep them from reaching for him. They were both breathing hard. When she finally looked straight at him she was crushed to see he was more sad than angry.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

He stormed away and left Arya alone in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

It was dawn when Arya said goodbye to her sister in Winterfell’s courtyard. It was a brisk morning but it seemed everyone had come out to see her off. Almost everyone, Arya thought. Except for a blacksmith who’s brooding in his forge. It all went by too fast. Sansa kissed Bran’s cheek and Rickon hugged her tightly as she reminded him to behave.

Suddenly Arya didn’t want Sansa to leave at all. Maybe she could help Arya fix the mess she had made. She was the romantic one after all. But it was too late for that now. The wheelhouse was hitched, the bags were packed, and an honor guard was present to see that Sansa came to no harm on the Kingsroad.

“I had expected to see your husband,” Sansa said when she stood before Arya. She hadn’t even thought to rehearse an excuse for him the night before. She settled for the truth.

“We had a fight.” Arya stared at her boots. “I’ve hurt him,” She confessed reluctantly. Arya expected to see judgement when she raised her eyes but Sansa gave her a small sympathetic smile.

“Fighting is a natural part of any marriage. Trust me I know.” She touched Arya under her chin lightly. “He’ll forgive you.” Arya managed a weak smile. She hoped her older sister was right.

Sansa made her promise to write and invited her to visit when the child was near. Arya happily agreed. They embraced and then she was gone. Bran went back inside the castle to entertain the last few guests that remained. Arya sent Rickon to his master with a stern look. He could go into the woods after his lessons she promised.

Arya retrieved her bow and a quiver of arrows from her chamber and left the castle. She headed on foot to the wolfswood where she intended to spend the day, alone but for her thoughts. Well almost alone. She could feel the presence that had returned early in the morning, long before the sun had rose. Her feet knew exactly which path to take through the trees.

The wolves were waiting for her.

Shaggydog and Summer had an elk between them and seemed quite uninterested in leaving their kill just to greet Arya. She didn’t take it personally. Nymeria bounded over to her and rubbed her wet nose against Arya. She buried her face in the wolf’s fur.

“I missed you too.”

The pack had been gone for weeks, hunting far to the north. Arya knew they liked to stretch their legs and often felt cramped within the castle’s walls but all the Starks felt better whenever they were close by. This time even they couldn’t ease her completely, though.

She wished Jon was around. But he was far away in the south with his dragon queen. Arya wouldn’t be surprised if he already heard about her marriage. She had wanted to write him but could never find the words. Arya couldn’t lie to Jon. She wondered if he would be disappointed in her and that made her feel even worse.

Arya let Nymeria get back to her kill and she took an arrow out of her quiver. She was out of practice with everything that had been going on. Arya aimed for the faraway branches of a pine and let her arrows fly.

 _Thud_.

I love you.

 _Thud_.

I love you

 _Thud_.

I love you.

Arya tossed her bow down onto the ground. It was no good. She couldn’t take her mind off what had happened only hours before. She had tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Arya hadn’t realized how much she’d grown accustomed to having Gendry by her side. His absence only made things worse.

He shouldn’t of walked off like that, Arya thought angrily. But she was mostly angry with herself. It made her ashamed to think of how she had used him. Gendry didn’t deserve that. Arya sat on the forest floor with the wolves and thought about how the past few weeks. How she felt when she touched him or woke in his arms.

The sun was setting by the time she headed back to Winterfell.

Arya went directly to the forge.

He looked up briefly when she entered and then back down at his work with a determined look on his face that Arya knew well. He’s still mad. He could hold onto his anger the same way Arya did. It’s one of the many things they had in common.

“Is there something you need, m’lady?”

She let the title slide. Arya owed him that much at least after everything he’d done for her.

“I wanted to talk to you,” she said.

He shrugged like he didn’t care what she had to say. She let that one go too but only just barely.

“I’m sorry.”

He stilled the hammer and finally looked up again, waiting.

“I shouldn’t of ever asked you to pretend to be married to me. It wasn’t fair,” she explained. “I know that I used you.”

Gendry pushed his sweat soaked hair out of his face showing her a suddenly guilty expression.

“It’s not all your fault,” he said. “You didn’t force me…”

Arya walked towards where he stood so they were close enough to touch. He was looking down at her and she was looking up at him. This is how we were standing at the feast before we kissed and that first time when I touched him, Arya remembered.

“I didn’t know what to say last night but I do now,” she started. Gendry didn’t appear to be breathing. “After you left I realized how much I liked being married to you. I don’t want to lose that. You’re my truest friend.” Arya paused and took a deep breath. “I love being with you and I love – I love you.”

Gendry responded with a kiss. He nearly knocked Arya off her feet as he swept down to press his lips to hers. He kissed her hard and it made Arya smile. She met him with same ferocity. Arya ran her hands over his bare chest and his hand was sliding down her back. They kissed for a long time. Gendry had pulled Arya against him, his arms wrapped around her so her feet weren’t even touching the ground. When he finally broke away, breathlessly, and looked carefully into her eyes with his lips almost brushing hers still. “Are you sure?” he asked nervously.

“Yes, stupid,” She laughed.

They kissed again.

After a time, Arya wrapped both her hands around his apron and started to pull him towards his room where she knew there was a tiny cot and not much else. Which was fine by her. A tiny cot was all they needed for what she had in mind.

“Arya we can’t,” He said like it pained him but he let her lead him.

“Of course we can,” Arya argued. “We’re married.”

-

It was still dark. Gendry had barely slept, scared that when he woke it would have all been a dream. But there Arya was. She was curled against Gendry with her head resting on his chest. And completely naked, Gendry thought with a grin as he remembered her pulling her tunic over her head before pushing him onto his own bed.

Gendry was both thrilled and terrified over what had happened. It had been the best night of his life but he had more fears than he knew what to do with. The thought that Arya could end up pregnant had occurred to him almost right after he was done. He didn’t know how he felt about that and Arya’s feelings were even more mysterious. The worst thought was that she might regret the whole thing.

Gendy didn’t think he could bear that shame.

He kissed the top of her head and she stirred. When Arya looked up at him with those dark gray eyes and a smile Gendry felt his heart warm.

They just looked at each other. It was still quite in Winterfell and it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

But Arya was thinking about something. She would chew her lip and stare at him almost too intensely.

“What?” He asked eventually, fearing the answer.

Then she smiled.

“Marry me.”

“Arya,” Gendry almost growled. They had just fixed everything and he didn’t want to fight again. “Don’t tease me. Not after last night.”

“I’m not. I told you last night I want to be with you. I know you don’t want to pretend anymore and neither do I.”

Gendry sat up and Arya did the same, maneuvering so she was sitting in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“Let’s get married,” she said. “For true this time.”

Everyone already thinks it so, he reminded himself. And now we’re bedded.

And they loved each other.

The act that had been driving him mad for weeks could be real. He would be able to call Arya his wife and touch her and be with her always.

For once, Gendry didn’t argue.

* * *

Bran woke as the sun was rising. He pulled himself up and out of bed and into his chair so he could wheel across his chamber. The dream was still fresh in his mind. A new one this time, he thought. A good one. He looked out the window. It was still early and, while Bran knew the bakers were already hard at work and the stableboys would be looking after their charges, Winterfell seemed to sleep still. A thin mist clung to the trees and the sky was still pink.

He watched the yard for a long time.

Sansa had brought her news of the potential marriage alliance to him before she did Arya. He instantly knew he’d have to politely decline. He did not mean to lose Arya too. Bran knew she would have desire to leave either. She had no love outside of Winterfell, save for Jon.

That night Bran had dreamed of a wolf and a bull in the godswood. Not as predator and prey as one might see in the wild but touching noses in front of the weirwood.

He knew what it meant.

It didn’t take a greenseer to see the two were destined for each other. But they were hopeless. Gendry would never pursue Arya because he believed her to above his station and, for all her cleverness; Arya could be quite blind where matters of the heart were concerned.

So Bran gave Sansa leave to broach the topic to their sister. He assumed it would push Arya into Gendry’s arms, though; even Bran couldn’t have guessed the scheme she would have created. But Arya wouldn’t be Arya if she did exactly what was expected.

In the early morning light he watched as they walked out of the godswood hand in hand. They had the most genuine looks of happiness on their faces. Both had worn the same smiles when they’d knelt together in the front of the Heart Tree.

Arya and Gendry were married in sight of the gods and all the rest would be none the wiser.

Bran’s plan had worked out better than even he expected.

And they said he had no talent for diplomacy.


End file.
